


The Seraph's Wings

by impalawinchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Sex, Angel Wings, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 13:44:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13459476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impalawinchester/pseuds/impalawinchester
Summary: Sam is curious about Cas's wings, and when he asks about them, he gets what he's been secretly yearning for.





	The Seraph's Wings

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first sastiel fic, so lmk what you think!

“Hey, Cas?” Sam called after his friend as he was just about to leave the bunker. Dean had already lumbered off to bed since they had just gotten back from a hunt in Louisiana, and Sam’s stubborn brother had insisted on driving the whole trip in one shot. 

But Sam had drifted off several times throughout their journey, so by the time they’d gotten home, he was wide awake. Cas, though, had said his goodnights and intended to allow the brothers to get their usual three hours. 

Sam had been wondering about something for a while. And Dean would only tease him if Sam asked in front of him, so while Dean was absent it was a good a time as any to ask the angel his questions. He wasn’t going to let the opportunity go to waste, if he could help it.

“Yes, Sam?” Cas answered in that deep voice. In that deep voice that had once said he shared a ‘more profound bond’ with Dean than with Sam, which had hurt, and sparked not a small pinch of jealousy in the younger Winchester. 

But Sam ignored that. They’d grown closer over the years, and that quick comment had somewhat faded with time. Besides, Cas and Sam had come so far from their previous relationship, when Sam was terrified to letting the angel in and had even denied a harmless embrace.

“Can I ask you a question about your wings?” Sam asked, opening one of the books from the Men of Letters’ archive on angels. 

Cas sat at the table across from Sam. 

“Of course.”

“Okay, so you’re a seraph, right?” Cas gave a patient, affirmative nod. 

“So it says here that you have four pairs of wings. And they aren’t visible to humans, obviously,” Sam said and gestured to the space around Cas, “but what do the wings do? And why four pairs?”

Cas opened his mouth to respond, but Sam continued in a rush. 

“And I was thinking, if glasses burned in holy oil can show us hellhounds, then couldn’t they show us angle wings?” 

Sam was leaning forward across the table, the heavy, old book opened and half-covered from Cas’s view by Sam’s broad chest. Sam didn’t notice him looking. 

“Holy oil burned glass would perhaps work with lower class angels,” Cas considered, unfazed by Sam’s excitement, “but then again, no one has ever tried it.” He folded his hands in his lap and looked up to the ceiling, thinking it through. 

“My wings are only visible to those who I reveal them to. It’s a careful procedure, and I can only reveal one set at a time.” 

“So you do have four pairs?” Sam confirmed eagerly. 

“Yes. Each has a different function. But only the one pair, for teleporting, are the ones you would imagine when you think of wings,” Cas explained.

“The ones that burn the ground when an angel dies,” Sam concluded. Cas nodded.

“Mine would appear to you to be dark gray,” Cas told the enthusiastic Winchester, whose eyes were wide with interest, forehead wrinkled with his raised brows. 

Cas continued to explain where the other three pairs were located and what their individual functions were. There existed two pairs that covered his face, for powers like invisibility and telepathy, while the set of wings on his feet were intended for animal communication and reality warping. But they didn’t look like bird wings. They were more like shrouds of grace. 

“My teleporting wings also heal and allow for dream walking. They go through cycles – molting cycles - when my powers wane and wax.”

“Wow, Cas,” was all Sam could manage, his interest beyond peaked at the new information. It was an indulgence, the unnecessary information about the angel’s wings. It wouldn’t ever really help Sam or Dean, but Sam felt like he knew Cas better for understanding just a little more about him.

“So they molt?” Sam pushed on. Cas nodded again, glanced to his sides. 

“Currently, they are full.” Sam wanted to ask to see them. Wanted to reach out and be able to touch Cas’ wings. But that seemed too ridiculous: what would Cas think of him if he asked to examine the feathers? Cas already probably thought his curiosity was unusual.

“Thanks for explaining that to me, Cas,” Sam said and offered a sheepish smile.

He then stood and faked a yawn, closed the book in front of him with a thump, and announced he was going to catch some sleep while he could. He was really going to spend hours imagining Cas’s elusive wings, painting them in his mind. 

It was Cas’ turn to look embarrassed – Sam must have made him feel uncomfortable. And that’s not what he intended, not at all. God, he was so stupid. Why the hell would he ask Cas about his damn wings? They were probably personal. Intimate, even. Now Sam was missing the angel social cues.

But when Cas spoke, it wasn’t to hurriedly say he had to go. It was to ask a timid question. 

“Would you like to see them?” 

Sam stopped dead in his tracks, turned back to face Cas, who was looking quite bashful. He cast his eyes downwards when he stood. 

“Uh, yeah, Cas, if that’s okay with you,” Sam said, barely containing his enthusiasm. 

“Just give me a moment,” Cas said, at once returning to his usual, self-assured demeanor. He straightened to his full height, closed his eyes, and breathed deeply. 

Sam blinked, and when his eyes opened again, Cas’s wings were in full view. 

They were gray, just as Cas had described, but they were flecked with black speckles, with white feathers interspersed throughout, and they were enormous. Even bent, they spanned at least six feet on either side of Cas’s shoulders. 

The tops of the wings where the bone would be – did angel wings have bones? Sam wondered – were covered in small feather so as to appear smooth from a distance. When Sam moved closer, Cas’s eyes still shut, he could make out the tiny feathers making up the structure of the wings. 

The bottoms of the wings were just as Sam had imagined – long, gray sweeping feathers in several layers, thinner as they extended away from the top. 

Cas moved them a bit, and they disturbed the air around them ever so slightly, brushed Sam’s hand even slighter with the movement, since Sam was hovering inches away from them in wonder. 

“Cas, these are incredible,” Sam managed quietly. When he looked over, Cas was watching him intently, brows furrowed and blue eyes bright as always. Sam looked away quickly, back to the wing in front of him. 

Then Cas extended them to full span, possible ten feet on their respective sides, full and thick and sturdy.

“You can touch them,” Cas prompted. Sam glanced over, gulped, but then he reached out a cautious hand to feel the feathers. They were unbelievably soft but thick, and as he felt them he noticed Cas relax. He ventured to stroke the wing, from just under the joint to as far down as his arm could reach comfortably. 

Cas sighed in content. Sam moved his hand back up and repeated the motion. He blushed like a damn school girl and prayed that Dean wouldn’t walk in to see him flustered and wide-eyed at eliciting the response from Cas. Cas’s eyes flickered over to meet Sam’s. 

“Does that…?” 

“Feel pleasurable?” Cas finished. He paused a moment, and Sam hoped it was because then he’d be feeling the same damn butterflies that Sam was. 

It was Cas’s turn to reach out, and his fingers curled around Sam’s arm, which caused Sam’s heart beat to sputter and his stomach to flip. He stood stony still, waiting for Cas to make another move. And then Cas pulled him closer. They were stood face to face, Sam a few inches taller but nearly eye to eye with the angel. 

Sam was fighting the urge to lean in and kiss Cas – he had no concept of human closeness or intimacy, after all, and he definitely didn’t mean to hint at such a thing happening in the near future – so Sam cleared his throat and averted his eyes to the side. 

Cas’s wings were shrouded around him, so tight they were nearly touching Sam. They extended above Sam’s head, the tips of them just brushing against the backs of Sam’s legs. Sam held his breath at the gesture. What did it mean? 

“Is this okay, Sam?” Cas whispered. 

“Yeah, Cas,” Sam answered easily, “this is okay.” He smiled a little, a quick smile, and he ducked his head so Cas couldn’t see his vulnerability. 

When he looked up again, Cas was watching him intently, head tilted to the side just a little and lips pressed together in thought. 

“I’m going to kiss you now,” Cas said, face scrunched up in his serious way. 

Sam chuckled lightly. 

“Okay, Cas.” He held his breath while Cas leaned in, his breath a ghost on Sam’s cheek. But then their lips met, it was gentle and warm and easy, like they were made to fit together. Cas was a timid kisser. And Sam suddenly felt like he had no idea what he was doing. 

Cas’s wings tightened around Sam, pulling him flush against the angel with one quick tug, and Sam yelped into Cas’s mouth with surprise. Cas’s hands slipped around Sam’s waist, and he tilted his head up to take advantage of the other man’s parted lips to kiss him more deeply. 

After a few shocked moments, Sam moved his hands up to Cas’s face, holding him closer and falling into the rhythm Cas was setting. Sam kissed him like he’d wanted to for months, years. Slowly and softly and more tenderly than Sam usually preferred. His tongue flicked into Cas’s mouth a few times, as he gained his confidence. This was Cas. Not some one-night stand. Not some demon. Cas.

When they broke apart after a long moment, both were breathless and grinning like two idiots. Sam rubbed the pad of his thumb over Cas’s cheek, and he took the time to memorize Cas’s face, the lines etched into it from stress, but also his eyes, which were kind and blue and Sam could get lost in them forever.

He laughed when the thought occurred to him. So he surged forward and kissed Cas again, hungrily, that time, all tongue and teeth and it was messy but it was wonderful. Sam felt it in his knees. He felt it everywhere. 

Somehow the two of them fumbled their way to Sam’s bedroom, lips refusing to part as they clung to each other. Cas’s wings spread a little as they walked, Sam leading Cas backwards, the wings fluttering by Cas’s sides to brush the walls as they passed through the hallways. 

Sam closed the door behind them, pulled Cas in again. He dragged him as close as he could by his hips. That time, his kisses were greedy and deep, sloppy and desperate and overwhelming. Sam could never have imagined Cas felt the same way about him. That Cas would want this with him. But was Cas doing what Sam obviously wanted? Did he want this, too? 

“Cas?” Sam asked as he broke the kiss, “do you want to do this?”

“Yes, Sam. I though that was clear,” Cas answered, “Do you want to do this?” 

“Hell, yes.”

So then Cas was tugging Sam’s flannel off and unbuckling his jeans and Sam’s own hands were fumbling with Cas’s trench coat and suit and tie – his wings disappeared just long enough for Sam to remove the clothes – and they collapsed onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and soft moans and feathers. 

When Sam reached around to drag his hands down Cas’s back, his fingers brushed over the base of Cas’s wings. Cas’s back arched up with the sensation, mouth falling open with a soft sigh. Sam kissed his neck at the opportunity, tugged at his wings to hear that wonderful sound again, and moved inside him with ease. 

They didn’t last long, with Cas splayed out beneath Sam, so open for him, like nothing Sam had ever experienced before. Sam attempted to make their first time slow, but it was in vain. Cas’s hands all over him, the stream of Enochian nonsense slipping out of his red, chapped lips, the way his wings twitched with arousal – it was all too much for either to hold off long. 

Cas’s back arched up against Sam’s chest as he came, the foreign language rising and his words getting cut off as he shuddered through the orgasm. Sam tumbled over the edge not long after, body tense as it hovered over the angel, when he noticed the way Cas’s wings were spread out on the bed beside him and flopped over onto the floor under Cas’s extended arms and around the rest of his lax body, twitching with aftershocks. 

Sam collapsed onto Cas as he rode out the pleasure, which was unlike anything he’d felt before, instantly sleepy and so unbelievably happy he hardly recognized the feeling. When was the last time he had been that happy? When was the las time he had sex like a teenager?

Sam curled up against Cas, his head tucked under Cas’s chin and his arms holding him close. He absently stroked the angel’s feathers again, provoking the same reaction as before – a slight fluttering. He also kissed Cas’s collarbone, his neck, his jaw – wherever he could plant one. Cas’s fingers combed through Sam’s hair.

Cas lifted each massive wing and wrapped them around Sam, held him close with both the wings and with his arms. 

Sam slept, angel wings keeping him safe, finally with Cas. Finally, finally, finally.


End file.
